Margaret Jane awoke in the small hours, precisely at three, to the persistent buzz of her old push-button mobile rattling atop her bedside table.
She blinked blearily, unsure who could possibly be ringing at such a ghostly hour. Picking up the phone, she glanced at the display, her heart beginning to race. It was her son.
Hello? Jamie, what on earths happened? Why are you calling at this ungodly hour?
Mum, sorry, I didnt mean to wake you. Its just well, I was coming back from work Jamie fumbled for words, his voice all in a muddle, and then I dont know what to do
What do you mean, son? Spit it out! Dont just sit there in silence! Are you trying to frighten me to death?
Well, its just shes here, in the road. Maybe you could tell me what to do? Ive never seen anything like it and I just sort of froze.
There was a curious silence; time and sense blurred for just a moment.
I dont understand You mean you ran someone over? Are they dead? Margaret Janes hands shook so violently she nearly dropped the phone.
No, doesnt look like it, Jamie replied, voice frayed. And it wasnt me. Someone else. And its not a person.
Not a person? Then who?
A dog Looks like a Labrador, maybe. Shes still breathing, but its ragged. What should I do, Mum? Theres nowhere open for animals at this hour in town, and youre better with animals than me.
Jamie gazed at the poor creature, lying motionless at the verge, lit by his headlights, her chest barely moving. She breathed slow and heavy, her eyes impossibly sad, as if she were already halfway dreaming beyond.
At least shes breathing Jamie thought, pressing his phone closer, as if it might somehow steady the world.
*****
Three days prior.
Mum, not this again! Dont you have anything better to do? Jamie huffed as he popped in unexpectedly and spied his mother putting out bowls for the neighbourhood cats. Why do you bother with these strays?
She hadnt always been a soft touch. But since retiring, Margaret Janes heart had gone utterly to the catsbordering on mad, he thought, the way folks in the flats muttered. She lavished them with tins of pilchards and scrambled egg, unconcerned by the passersby staring askance.
Hello, darling, Margaret Jane called, straightening and waving a hand dusted with kibble. You could have warned me youd be dropping by. Id have made something nice.
Looks like you already gave everything nice to your cats, Jamie snorted.
Genuinely, he couldnt fathom why she frittered money and energy on street animals, why she doted and made the effort to help every bedraggled beast that crossed her path. She had, after all, already brought four waifs home just this past yeara whole pride of cats in her little council flat.
But Margaret Jane wasnt done; she fed the wandering dogs too, and even remembered the pigeons pecking at crusts near the bins.
The neighbours, behind her back, dubbed her Saint Jane.
Jamie hated how they pointed, whispering and smirking. Some twirled their fingers at their temples, hinting shed lost her marbles.
Let them think what they like, love, Margaret told him, catching his restless frown at the snickering neighbours. Theres so little kindness in the world; Id like to nudge it a bit more towards good.
She looked thoughtfully at the cats lapping at their bowls. Tell me, what happiness is there for them out there? None. So I give what little comfort I can, so they feel wanted. It’s a horrible thought, to exist just to be ignored. Do you remember what your nan used to say?
Youve got four cats already, Mum. Isnt that enough?
Its not about enough, darling. If my flat were bigger, Id take in all of them. But space and pension are both tight. I do what I can for those I have, and the rest, at least theyre not hungry. Let people call me barmy. At least Im setting an example.
An example?
Of course. If one person sees this and thinks again, maybe theyll start caring, too. Were responsible for those we tame. And if not us, then who? Its what makes us humanto care for the small and the voiceless.
Jamie triedreally triedto see it her way, but he just couldnt. If she helped needy people, hed understand, but animals?
He didnt hate dogs and cats. He just thought there was no need to go overboard.
But three days after this, late one surreal night, something upended Jamies notions completely.
That evening, he was stuck late at the officeovertime chaos, the type that never happens except when youre desperate to get home. Perhaps it was fate. He hadnt seen his city at this hour for ages.
Usually a careful driver, Jamie tonight put his foot down, letting the wind rush through the silent streetsjust for a thrill. But the spell soon broke.
He barely pulled up in time, tyres skidding a breath from the dog sprawled across the tarmac.
For minutes, he simply gripped the wheel, white-knuckled, staring through the windscreen. When his nerves eased, he got out, kneeling beside her.
One look told himshed been struck by a car. Some reckless driver or drunk, he guessed.
Not that it mattered. What mattered was what to do now.
Panic set in; Jamie had never even owned a dog. Who could he ask for help but his mother?
*****
Mum, what do I do? Jamie asked for the third time, his voice almost childish.
There was a soft hush.
Are you saying you hit someone? Are they dead? Margaret Janes voice quavered.
No, Mum, no. Not a person. Someone else did it. Its a doglooks rough. Shes breathing, but its bad. The animal clinic is definitely shut, what am I supposed to do? I thought maybe youd know.
Margaret Jane’s mind whirled sleepily, but the answer came clear.
No, Ive no vet pals, sadly. And youre rightthe only emergency animal hospitals miles away, she might not make it. Jamie, bring her here, love.
To your flat? Are you sure? Jamies voice wobbled. Youve got four cats in there. Theyll go mad.
Oh, Jamie, the cats will cope, theyre not crocodiles. Just get her here quickly, and be careful lifting her, all right? Ill sort things. We can at least make her comfortable.
*****
Half an hour later, Jamie trudged up the four flights to his mothers door, the dog cradled awkwardly in his arms.
The car was a disaster and so was he, dirt everywherebut for once, he didnt care. He only cared that the dog kept breathing.
There, gently now, Margaret Jane instructed, pointing at the old couch, hastily covered with faded sheets. Margaret had never been a vet, but having spent so many hours in the animal clinic with her menagerie, shed picked up a thing or two.
Jamie frantically searched what to do on his smartphone, barely thinking straight.
Togethernot on the first try, but with clumsy determinationthey managed to stop the bleeding and make the dog more comfortable.
And if youll believe it, the cats joined in; at first suspicious, then converging like a furry guard, humming warm purrs from the sofa. The dog dozed offproperly, not in insensibility, but in peace.
And that was good, because for those few dream-hours, thanks to the cats and their gentle rhythms, pain faded.
Do you think shell be all right, Mum? Jamie asked, hand resting on the sleeping dog.
I do, Margaret said, her smile weary but real. And you know, Jamieperhaps this lovely creature found you because you needed to meet her, not the other way round.
I couldnt just leave her there, Mum. It didnt seem human.
Thats what Im getting at. Three days ago you thought I was batty for feeding the strays, and now youre here, up all night. Somethings changed, hasnt it?
Jamie blushed. It was all peculiarly beautiful, and moved him more than he cared to admit.
*****
At first light, Jamie took the dog to the vets. He arrived before they opened, but when people in the queue saw a man with a limp dog in his arms, they simply parted in silence.
It was a small kindness, spontaneous and real.
That was when Jamie realised that loving animals, looking after them, makes people better. Kinder. More human.
The vet patched up the dogJamie named her Polly; she stood again. Now, every weekend, Jamie visited his mum, and they walked togetherPolly, the cats trailing behind like peculiar courtiers. Or rather, they strolled as a five-strong parade.
The neighbours gawped at this odd menagerie, tapping their foreheads and whisperingbut for once, Jamie didnt care.
All thanks to Polly, who appeared one strange night, and to Margaret Jane, for teaching him the way.
And thanks, too, to those silent people outside the vets, for their kindness. In that suspended morning, Jamie thought the world really might have turned a little gentler.
Whatever anyone might say, he, like his mother, would do whatever he could for those in needcat, dog, or human.
And that odd, bracing senseof being truly a good person, even if only in a strange midnight dreamlingered, long after he woke.
